She fucked up when she took my sister as revenge for me shutting down her advances. If it wasn’t for that, then who knows how many more girls would have had to suffer at the hands of Mr. Chapman and his recruits.
Corden’s brother Castille has been working non-stop since that night to try and locate all the missing students that were taken and spread farand wide. We even managed to save some, Castille covering all the costs to give them a new life far away from here and a support system for recovery. A few unfortunately never made it, and some were completely untraceable. Including the girl he has been tirelessly looking for since attending the academy himself, the girl his company was founded on. But he still isn’t giving up. Now he has connections to follow, and people to hunt down, and after meeting him, I would beveryafraid if I had anything to do with his missing woman.
When Rue was well enough to leave the hospital, we vowed to attend every funeral of those who never made it home, to show our respect and solidarity. Bronwyn’s was the final one.
The ring that had spread its reach throughout this part of the UK is disbanded, but that only means they’ll resurface somewhere else. Even with them gone, the thought of what could have happened to Piper, or to Ruella, still haunts me. Every new detail from survivors twists the knife a little deeper.
“Do you want to grab something to eat?” Ruella asks as she slips into the car, her hand brushing mine.
“Sure,” I say, sliding into the driver’s seat, “but we have to be back by five. I have a little surprise waiting for you,” I lean over, pressing my lips to hers. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, I pull back, my forehead resting against hers.
“I don’t really like surprises,” she mutters with a small, crooked smile. “I think I’ve had enough to last a lifetime,”
“I know,” I whisper, my thumb brushing along her jawline. “But this one… you’ll want to make an exception,”
Her lips twitch, just the barest hint of excitement in her dark eyes.
***
The clang of the warehouse door echoes behind us, the sound reverberating through the hollow space. The air is thick, metallic and stale, humming with the ghosts of everything that’s happened here before.
Ruella walks ahead of me, her boots clicking across the concrete. Each step is measured. Calm. Controlled. I recognize the tension in her shoulders, not fear, not hesitation, but focus.
When she sees him, she doesn’t flinch. Her father hangs there, stripped of the power he once lorded over her. For the first time, he looks small.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” She claps her hands and the man hanging from the meat hook flinches.
“Ruella, please. Get him to let me go,”
My girl takes the lead, and I feel a rush coil through me, hardening with every fearless move she makes. Fuck, her twisted, ruthless side, the part that thrives in chaos, turns me on like nothing else.I slip into the corner of the room, focus locked on her. I don’t want to miss a single second of what she’s about to do to him. Every move, every flicker of her expression, I need to see it all.
“Why would I do that dad?” She moves close to him. “You’re my present,” She makes her way over to the table of goodies I left out for her to choose from. Her hand glides over them one by one as her father begs.
“I will give you anything you want. That money you wanted. Double it. No triple it,”
“I don’t need your money,” She scoffs. “You have absolutely nothing I want. And when you hold nothing I want, that puts you in a very dangerous place,”
She picks up the metal bat and gives it a few practice swings, as her father’s eyes widen in fear.
“Remember when Marlowe blamed me for spilling Ribena on the white rug and you beat me with one of these until you broke my arm?” My fists clench with the need to unleash my wrath on him for ever putting my little vixen through such hell, but this is her rodeo, and I am just along for the ride.
“What did you say again?” she taps her chin. “Oh yes. Take your punishment, you deserve much worse for just breathing,” Then she swings and the ting sound against his bare shin is music to my ears. He screams in agony and begs repeatedly as she continues her assault. I sit back in awe of her as she switches to a flick knife.
When her shoulders are no longer weighed down with a million memories, she takes a step back. Her father is still breathing. He passed out from the pain a while ago, but to my detriment, Ruella wants to keep him alive and fearful, powerless like he made her. She wants to torment him, and I love the sick little psycho for it.
“All done baby?”
She nods and I catch her as she leaps into my arms, her body folding against mine. The pressure of her core against the hard line in my jeans pulls a low sound from me; she rolls her hips and presses her mouth to mine, fierce and hungry, and I let her have it.
When I pull back, she’s smiling, breath hot against my lips.
“Feel better?” I ask. She nods, hips still moving in a slow, private rhythm.
“Did watching me turn you on, handsome?” she teases.
“Hell yes,” I grin, reckless. “When your eyes go all dilated and you’re streaked with blood, you look like a dark angel,” I kiss her again, my hand landing on her arse with a hard, possessive squeeze. “So hot,”
I set her back on her feet, and she pouts, small and insolent.
